


Fragments

by lah_mrh



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Fever, Food Poisoning, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2020-02-04 19:10:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18610705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lah_mrh/pseuds/lah_mrh
Summary: Ash and Pike are captured on a mission, and things go from bad to worse when Pike becomes ill.





	Fragments

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure exactly where this fits into canon, except that it takes place sometime after "Light and Shadows". Hope you enjoy!

One day, Ash thinks, staring bitterly at the door to the cell, he's going to have to calculate exactly how much of his life he's spent locked up. 

Their captors – some kind of insectoid race he can't identify – were rough but thorough, stripping them of anything but their clothes – communicators, phasers, even his combadge. Which leaves them no way out of here, and no way to contact _Discovery_. 

_Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm cursed._

He sighs, turning away from the door to address his fellow captive. "Do you believe in karma?"

"You mean the idea that if you're a good person good things will happen to you?" Pike seems to consider it. "I'd like to, but my experience so far hasn't really borne that out."

"Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of bad things happening because we deserve them."

Pike's expression goes soft. "You don't deserve this."

The words 'That's not what you would have said a month ago' spring instantly to Ash's mind, but he doesn't voice them. After all, it isn't as though he judged Pike completely fairly either when they first met. No point bringing up the past, not now that they're – possibly – almost friends.

Instead, he glances around the cell, taking it in. It's small, less than four metres by three, containing two sleeping pallets, a bucket filled with water and several flat-bottomed hemispherical cups, and an odd metal bowl on one wall that Ash assumes (and _hopes_ , given there doesn't seem to be anything else for the purpose) is a toilet. 

For lack of anything better to do, he grabs a water-filled hemisphere and empties it into the bowl. It takes a few seconds, but he feels a spark of satisfaction as the water disappears with a soft whoosh.

He's distracted from further experiments by a metallic clunk from the doorway, and turns in time to see a small hatch open at the bottom. Two trays appear, shoved through roughly from outside, before the hatch clunks shut again.

"Looks like dinner is served," Pike says, rising from his pallet and inspecting the trays. "Hope you like brown mush." He hands one of the trays to Ash before settling back down to eat.

Sure enough, their meal, if it can be called that, is a pile of brownish gloop apparently ladled straight onto the tray. It's accompanied by something that resembles a spoon, except completely flat.

Ash sits down on his own pallet, watching as Pike gathers a small amount of the gloop on his spoon before taking a cautious bite. He freezes immediately, looking for a moment as if he might spit it back out again, then swallows with difficulty and takes a long drink of water.

Ash raises his eyebrows. "That good, huh?"

"Well, it's not the _worst_ thing I've ever tasted," Pike replies. "But I'd say it's probably in the top five."

Curious, Ash takes a bite of his own gloop. It isn't actually that terrible, if he ignores the strange spongy texture. He shrugs and begins eating in earnest.

Pike, meanwhile, only manages three or four more mouthfuls before setting the tray aside.

"Not hungry?" Ash asks.

"Not hungry _enough_ ," Pike corrects. He smiles faintly and adds, "I'm sure if we stay here long enough my stomach will overrule my taste buds, but it hasn't happened so far." He studies Ash for a second, eyebrows raised. "Not that it seems to be stopping you."

Ash snorts. "You should try Klingon food sometime. This stuff might taste bad, but at least it isn't actively trying to escape."

Eventually, though, even he has to admit defeat, and he scrapes the rest of his gloop onto Pike's tray before stacking them both in a corner. Then he settles back down on his pallet and closes his eyes, allowing himself to drift. It's a skill that's served him well in the past, the ability to go outside himself for a while. He's still aware of everything around him – at this point he can't really imagine not being – but it's less... present. 

He comes back to himself some time later to find Pike shifting uncomfortably on his pallet. Ash blinks a few times, trying to decide if he looks paler than usual. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Pike replies quickly. He smiles, but it comes out more of a grimace. "The mush just isn't sitting well."

Before Ash can respond, he adds, "I think I'm going to try and get some sleep."

"Yeah," Ash agrees. "That's probably a good idea." For both of them. He has no idea what time it is, but based on the time they were captured it must be fairly late. 

He doesn't bother removing his boots before lying down, turning on his side and throwing an arm over his head to block out the light. There's no way to turn it off completely, but another skill his history has gifted him with is the ability to sleep anywhere, and he soon drifts off.

He jerks awake some time later, roused by a noise that, after some brief confusion, he identifies as the sound of retching. He rubs a hand over his eyes and turns over enough to see Pike's back as he kneels in front of the toilet. After another few moments, the retching stops, and there's a soft whoosh as the waste is sucked away. Pike stays kneeling there for a moment longer, as if deciding whether he's actually done, before rising and stumbling back to his pallet.

Ash considers his options, then sits up and makes his way over to the water bucket. He fills two cups before crossing to Pike's pallet and holding one of them out to him. "Here."

Pike takes the cup, nodding in gratitude. "I didn't mean to wake you," he says, sounding vaguely apologetic.

Ash shrugs. "I'm a light sleeper." A trait born of necessity, but he doesn't mention that.

He hesitates, then sits down next to Pike, who is taking careful sips of water. This close, his face is definitely paler than usual, almost grey. "You look like hell."

Pike huffs a laugh. "Don't sugar-coat it, Tyler."

He shivers suddenly, and Ash frowns. The room isn't exactly toasty, but it's definitely not that cold. Acting on a hunch, he reaches out and touches Pike's forehead with the back of his hand. Pike jerks away immediately, but it's enough for Ash to tell he's far too warm. "You're running a fever."

"Probably," Pike agrees, leaning heavily against the wall. 

Ash scratches his beard. Fever and vomiting could just be a case of food poisoning, but it could also be something more serious. The thought occurs that their captors might have deliberately poisoned them, but if that were the case he should be feeling ill as well, and he isn't. "Do you have any other symptoms?"

"I'll be fine."

"That's not what I asked."

"I wasn't aware you were a doctor." Pike sighs and shakes his head. "My stomach feels like someone's taking a knife to it. Other than that..." He sets the cup down and rubs his temples. "I'm tired, I guess, and a little dizzy. And cold, but I assume that's from the fever."

Part of Ash wants to reach out, offer some kind of comfort, but he doesn't know how, or if Pike would even accept it if he did. "You should rest," he says instead, and pushes himself to a standing position. "We both should."

"Mmm," Pike agrees, and Ash goes back to his own bed, hoping and wishing that _Discovery_ will find them soon.

He's woken twice more that night by Pike stumbling to the toilet to throw up. Each time he listens just long enough to be sure Pike has made it back to bed before allowing himself to fall back to sleep. 

And so the night passes.

Pike is asleep when Ash finally wakes fully, curled on his side with his back to the room. Ash allows himself a moment of hope; if Pike is finally sleeping deeply, maybe the worst is over.

He takes the opportunity to relieve himself, before helping himself to a cup of water. No more trays have appeared while they slept, but then again, he thinks, that might be a good thing.

He's refilling his cup when he becomes aware of a noise from Pike's side of the room. Ash puts the cup down and approaches carefully, not wanting to wake him.

As he gets closer the noise resolves into whispering, a quiet, "No, no", followed by a sharp indrawn breath.

A nightmare, Ash realises. Something he's very familiar with. He reaches out and grips Pike's shoulder, shaking gently. "Wake up, it's just a dream."

There's no response, and he shakes harder. "Pike. Wake up."

Nothing.

Concerned, Ash reaches out to touch his forehead and immediately pulls his hand back in shock. If Pike was warm before, he's _burning_ now.

Worry surges through Ash's chest, and he grabs Pike's shoulder and resumes shaking him, harder this time. "Captain Pike. Chris. Wake _up_!" As a last resort, he digs his nails into Pike's hand, hoping that the pain at least will rouse him. It works inasmuch as Pike's eyes open, but there's no awareness there and they slip closed again almost instantly.

Ash curses and jumps to his feet, hurrying the few paces to the door. "Hey!" he yells, hammering on it with both hands. "My friend's sick, he needs medical attention! Is anyone listening? Hey!"

He continues in that vein for several minutes before he gives up, aiming a final kick at the door in frustration. No one's out there, or if they are, they obviously don't care.

Which means it's down to him.

Ash might not be a medical officer, but all Starfleet officers are trained in emergency first aid. Ideally, the treatment for a fever this high would involve drugs and real doctors, but he figures he'll just have to do what he can.

As a first task, he removes Pike's boots and socks, then his jacket, leaving him in his undershirt. Then he pours water over one of the jacket's sleeves and uses it to wipe down Pike's face and arms before draping it across his forehead. Ash thinks he might be a little cooler than before, but it's hard to tell. He trickles a little water across Pike's lips as well, hoping to get some moisture into him.

There isn't much else he can do, so he continues as best he can, re-dampening the jacket as necessary. Every so often Pike will let out a noise or murmur, lost in fever dreams, but Ash finds quickly that the sound of his voice seems to comfort him.

He's wiping down Pike's face for the dozenth or so time when Pike's eyes open. He looks confused for a moment, but then recognition sparks. "Tyler?"

The relief that rushes through Ash leaves him briefly dizzy. "You're awake," he says. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Pike answers. He rubs his eyes, then pauses, staring at his hand. "I seem to be missing some clothes."

Ash feels his cheeks heat in spite of himself. "Your fever spiked," he explains. "I was trying to bring it down." He holds up the dampened jacket as evidence.

"Ah," Pike says, nodding. "I see." 

He still seems a little out of it, and Ash reaches out to touch his forehead. Still warm, but not dangerously so. "Do you want anything? Maybe some water?"

Pike's eyes slip shut briefly. "Water would be great, thank you."

Ash gets him a cup of water, and he manages to sit up enough to drink it. "I'd ask how long I've been out," Pike says, "but that would require us to have some way of measuring time."

Ash frowns, trying to estimate. "Probably just a few hours? But it felt like longer."

Pike smiles faintly. "Were you _worried_ about me, Tyler?"

Ash shrugs, admitting, "Maybe a little. You were pretty ill."

He doesn't get the chance to say more, as Pike, clearly still not fully recovered, suddenly shoves him aside and vomits over the side of the bed. 

Which is, of course, the exact moment that _Discovery_ finally arrives to beam them out.

* * *

Their first stop is sickbay, for obvious reasons. Ash is checked over quickly and released, but Pike has to stay longer to recover. He is sitting up in bed reading when Ash visits, his uniform replaced by sickbay overalls. He's still paler than usual, but Ash can see that he's starting to regain some colour in his face. Whatever the doctors are treating him with, it's working.

"Feeling better?" Ash asks, and Pike smiles.

"It'll be a while until I'm ready to face the mess hall, but yes, better." He taps his fingers against his leg and adds, "Just a bad case of food poisoning, apparently, though I can't help but notice that you ate a lot more of that stuff than I did and were perfectly fine."

Ash shrugs. "Just lucky, I guess." 'Lucky' isn't a word he usually applies to himself, but he can't deny it fits here. He can't imagine what might have happened if both of them had been that ill.

"Maybe," Pike says, before adding softly, "Thank you for taking care of me. I know it couldn't have been easy."

"No problem," Ash replies. He hesitates, then decides to go for a joke. "Besides, I knew no one on this ship would ever trust me if they thought I killed the captain."

Pike laughs. "That's probably true. But I'm still grateful."

He smiles again, and Ash finds himself smiling back, feeling, for just a second, like there might actually be somewhere he belongs.


End file.
